My Weakness
by Medusa -the writer
Summary: This story delves a little deeper into Sam’s own brand of Hell after Dean’s deal came due and he was taken by the Hell Hounds. What did Sam go through to start him off down the slippery slope of Season 4?


Title: My Weakness

Author: Medusa

Rating: MA for Mature Audience. Nothing here that you haven't already seen on the show, we know what Sam did with Ruby. Do I need to give a warning that Ruby is in this story – a lot.?

Warnings: Small spoilers for Season 3's NRFTW and major ones for Season 4's IKWYDLS, and a little from Lucifer Rising, the season 4 finale.

Disclaimer: The usual – All rights to the Supernatural characters and episodes belong to EK, The CW and WB. No infringement on those rights is intended, no money is being made from this.

Recipient: Blahbaby

Author's Note: This is not so much a story of redemption or even excuses for what happened, simply one possible scenario of how Sam's vulnerability was exploited. Written for the Summer of Sam Love fanfic exchange

Prompt: Sam's summer after Dean dies and goes to hell, seriously one ep was not enough to cover this!

Summary: This story delves a little deeper into Sam's own brand of Hell after Dean's deal came due and he was taken by the Hell Hounds. What did Sam go through to start him off down the slippery slope of Season 4? There are a few pieces and actual dialogue from the episode IKWYDLS woven into this story to tie it all together.

There was still a tendency for there to be a chill in the air as the sun went down, even though it was now well into May. Nearly but not quite Summer yet.

Sam Winchester hardly felt the chill. He hardly seemed to feel anything anymore, with his own heart nothing more than a frozen lump in his chest. Distantly he heard his name being called and he ignored it. It wasn't that he was ungrateful to Bobby, just that it made taking the next breath easier if he didn't let himself feel.

"Damn it, Sam, I've been calling you for the last 10 minutes. Supper's ready." Bobby Singer finally found the young man sitting among a pile of rusted car carcasses, staring forlornly off at the setting sun. "Sam?" he repeated.

"Not hungry," was the monotone reply.

"You have to eat, son. Come on." He reached down and tugged on the shirt that seemed to be getting looser every day on the tall lean frame of the man on the ground. "It's getting cold out here."

Sam didn't resist but it was more like he was operating on autopilot than consciously reacting. It was the same any time Bobby tried to get Sam to eat, sleep or do anything. And like every other time since they'd gotten back to the salvage yard, the older hunter knew he'd be able to prod Sam to do enough to keep his own body functioning. No more, no less.

Sam washed his hands and sat in his usual place at the table. Bobby put the plate in front of the younger man and watched as Sam sliced the food into small pieces, shoveled bite after bite into his mouth until he'd choked down about half of it and then stood, put his plate on the sink bench and headed for the library, pausing only briefly to look Bobby in the eye and say "Thanks, Bobby" before ducking his head and shuffling off, back to the stacks of books in the room beyond.

Bobby was sure he could serve up sawdust pie and Sam wouldn't know the difference for all the boy seemed to taste or enjoy his food these days. He wished that Sam wasn't quite so compliant. That he'd see at least some spark from the last remaining Winchester, even if it meant he tore Bobby's house up. But that was more Dean's style. It was more like Sam had flipped an off switch. Not that Bobby could blame him. After all, they had buried Sam's big brother Dean just a week ago. The memory of that day and the one that followed flashed into Bobby's mind.

_Bobby didn't think he was ever going to get over the scene he'd walked in on when he'd finally been able to get back to the house where Sam and Dean had gone to confront Lilith. He'd seen a lot of dead bodies in his time, but seeing Dean Winchester's ravaged and torn remains was something he wasn't ever going to forget. It had broken his heart, so God only knew what it had done to Sam's. He'd found Sam cradling his brother's broken body, sobbing his heart out, and it had taken nearly an hour to get Sam to even realize that there was even anyone else in the room. _

_He'd managed to convince Sam that they should wrap Dean in a blanket and get out of there before any authorities arrived. Bobby had driven the Impala, with a shell-shocked Sam riding shotgun and Dean's dead body in the back seat, to the woods outside Pontiac Illinois where Dean had been buried. Bobby still wasn't sure why Sam had picked that particular spot, but one of the only things Sam'd communicated as they pulled out of New Harmony was instructions to head there, to that exact location. The grizzled hunter suspected it was one of a very few places that had held happy memories for the Winchester brothers in their younger days, so he didn't argue._

_Once they got there, Bobby had started to prepare the funeral pyre only to gape in shock when Sam suddenly went ballistic._

"_No!" Sam had shouted. "We're not burning him."_

"_Sam, come on. Be reasonable. It's the right thing to do, what he'd want you to do."_

_Sam's eyes had blazed. "No," he'd insisted again. "I'm going to bury him. I'll make sure he's protected, but I'm not burning him."_

_And with that Sam had set to preparing Dean's body, making a simple pine coffin – which he'd at least let Bobby help build – and then headed off a short way into the woods to dig the shallow grave for his brother's final resting place, insisting Bobby wait with the car and let him do it alone._

_Bobby gave in to Sam's stubborn insistence and gave him the space he needed, using the time to call a friend who he knew would go pick up his car from Indiana and drive it back to the salvage yard for him. Then he sat and waited, resisting the urge to go see how the boy was doing. He was sure that if Sam needed him he'd holler. Bobby silently said his own farewells to the young man whom he had come to love like a son._

_A couple of hours later Sam had come back to the car, eyes red rimmed and face blotchy. That was the last emotion he had shown. Sam had slammed a door shut on his emotions, answering Bobby in sentences of no more than three words, hardly sleeping, barely eating. He'd doggedly gone through every book Bobby owned that he thought would give him a clue on how to get Dean back from Hell, even though he'd combed through them all in the twelve months leading up to that fateful night._

Bobby sighed as he cleaned up after the meal. He took a couple of beers from the fridge and made his way into the library. He found Sam sitting at the desk, flipping once again through a large volume of archaic rites. He put one of the bottles down within Sam's line of sight. The young man slammed the book shut as he got to the end and seemed to notice the beer and the older man's presence.

"Thanks."

Bobby fidgeted for a moment before sitting down on the corner of the desk.

"Look, Sam, I know how you're feelin'… I miss him, too. He was, you _both_, are like sons to me, ya know?"

Sam's jaw twitched and he took a long swig of his beer but he didn't meet Bobby's eyes or respond in any other way.

"I'm not sayin' ya shouldn't grieve, and God knows it's hard to go on without him, but you should start thinkin' about what you're gonna do now. You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you want. I could use the help."

Sam picked at the label on the bottle in his hands.

"Thanks, Bobby. I know. And I appreciate it. But I already know what I need to do. I gotta find a way to get him back." It was the longest speech Sam had made in a week, and his voice almost cracked at the end.

"Sam," Bobby sighed the name out softly. "I don't think that Dean would want you to do that."

"I gotta try, Bobby. Whatever it takes."

"Please, Sam, just promise me ya won't do anything stupid."

The young hunter didn't answer. He wasn't going to make promises he knew he couldn't keep. After a moment he got up, put the half finished beer on the desk.

"I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Bobby," was the last thing he said as he walked to the stairs leaving the older man to stare after him sadly.

When Bobby got up early the next morning he found that Sam, and the Impala, were gone.

Sam had no idea where he should go, or what he should do next. He only knew he couldn't stay at Bobby's, seeing the pain and sorrow in Bobby's eyes. His own despair was too close to the surface and it was getting harder and harder to keep in check. All he knew was that before he broke down completely, he had to get out of there.

But just getting away from Bobby wasn't going to be enough. Every time he closed his eyes, Sam relived the horror of watching helplessly as his brother was torn to shreds. He could run from everything else but he couldn't run from himself. He'd lain awake for most of the night. It was the same every night. He was so damn tired but every time he drifted into sleep the imagery of what Dean had gone through gave him the worst nightmares than he'd ever had in his life. Worse than even after Jessica. Only this time there was no big brother to sit with him, assure him that things would get better, to rub his back and calm him down just like when he was a kid.

Sam wasn't going to rest until he had his brother back.

The phone on the bench seat beside him rang again. That made it twelve times in the last hour. Again he ignored it until it stopped, the call more than likely going to voicemail again. He'd been driving since around 4am. He'd woken from yet another nightmare, had packed his meager possessions and just left. He hadn't even left a note. Bobby had been calling every few minutes since 6am. Sam knew what the messages would say but he couldn't bring himself to listen to them. The phone rang again. Sam calmly wound the window down and threw the offending piece of metal and plastic out into the ditch that ran alongside the road.

In the days that followed Sam drove until he needed to stop for gas, grabbed something random from whatever roadside diner he happened to be passing at the time when he figured he should stop to eat, then drove again until his eyes could no longer focus on the road in front of him. He'd pull out a bottle of Jack and down enough of it so he would pass out long enough to get some rest, curled up in the backseat of the car that had been the only real home he'd ever known.

Then he'd start the car the next morning when he gave up all pretense of trying to sleep and do it all over again.

One night he stopped at a cheap motel but after walking in and finding there were two beds staring at him, he turned around and slept in the car outside. The public washrooms at gas stations were good enough to clean up in.

Every day Sam had prayed harder than he'd ever prayed before, begging God to spare Dean from Hell, to bring him back. On a sunny afternoon several days after leaving Bobby's, he found himself stopping outside a Church in Tennessee. The Gospel Church of Whatever. Or something. The name didn't matter. The religion didn't matter. It was a House of God so maybe the message would get through a little clearer.

Sam pulled the whiskey bottle out from under the seat and took a healthy drink. The liquor burned as it went down, but it didn't make him gag as much as that first day on the road. Dean would kill him if he knew Sam was driving the classic car most days while he was borderline DUI. But Sam wasn't quite that suicidal yet so he was careful about how much he drank until he stopped each night.

He swiped at his mouth with the end of his sleeve and screwed the cap back on the bottle, slipping it inside his jacket pocket as he exited the car. Sam paused for a moment at the doors before he went inside, almost changing his mind.

It was cool and quiet inside the building after the heat inside the car. He walked down to the front, sat in one of the pews and took a few deep steadying breaths.

"I don't know if you are listening, God," he started, "but I've been praying to you for a very long time. I know I haven't always done the kinds of things that, well, you probably don't always approve of the things I've done. But I need your help. It's my brother, Dean. He gave up his soul for me, and he shouldn't have. And now he's in Hell, because of me."

Sam pulled the bottle out of his pocket, uncapped it and took a drink. Then he continued.

"Dean doesn't belong there. If anyone should be there, it should be m-me," he sniffed and drank again. "You gotta help him, God. You gotta get him outta there. Please."

Sam sat, and waited. He wasn't sure if he thought he expected to get an immediate answer, but he'd kinda figured _something_ would happen. He took another drink. Finally he sighed and got up.

"Shoulda figured you wouldn't want to make any deals. Not like the other side, huh? Well, it was worth a try."

He got up and weaved his way back down the aisle, back out to the car. After the third attempt to get the keys in the ignition, Sam realized he probably shouldn't be driving. He squinted down the street into the afternoon sun, recognizing a sign for a hotel that all but screamed "pay-by-the hour" not two blocks away. He could make it that far.

The room reeked of stale smoke, bleach, and something completely unidentifiable. Sam threw the room and car keys on the table inside the door, tossed his duffle on the bed and looked disinterestedly around the room. A brochure in the small holder on the table caught his eye. Sam picked it up. It was advertising local tourist attractions. Sam wondered what had drawn his interest, his alcohol fogged brain not quite firing on all cylinders. Then it hit him. He was in Tennessee. There were more freaking crossroads in Tennessee than just about the whole rest of the friggin' country put together.

"Huh."

Maybe this was God's sign, he thought bitterly, not really believing it. But it did present one other possibility. He knew he was going back on his word to his brother, but he was out of options. Deep down he knew there was only one person, one entity, that had the power to do anything about giving Dean back. He knew what she wanted - Sam's intestines on a stick. Well she could have them, just as long as she gave Dean back.

"Goddamned freakin' demons," Sam muttered to himself staggering back to the cheap hotel room after his encounter with the crossroads demon.

After he'd ended the little shit with the demon-killing knife he'd downed most of another bottle of whiskey. He'd tried to strike a deal of his own, but the Crossroads demon had gleefully told him that Hell didn't want Sam, that Dean was exactly where they wanted him to be.

He let himself into the room and before he even had time to register that he wasn't alone he'd been jumped by two demons, one of whom turned out to be none other than Ruby.

"It's nice to be back," she sneered. ""Even for Hell, it was nasty. I guess I really pissed Lilith off. Imagine my relief when she gave me one last chance. A ticket topside and all I had to do was find you, and kill you."

"Fine. Go Ahead, Do it," Sam told her defiantly, stepping up toe to toe with Ruby, pulling his arm free of the other demon's grip leaving only the hand fisted in his hair.

He'd expected to die right then so it surprised the hell out of him when she killed the other demon instead, telling him to grab his keys, that they had to go, now.

Sam drove them away from the hotel, out of town as fast as he dared. He shouldn't have been driving but he was damned if he was going to let Ruby drive the Impala.

About a half hour later Ruby sighed, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the car. "You know, a thank you would be nice."

"Who asked for your help," Sam replied sourly.

"You have no idea what I've been through. When Lilith get's pissed, she gets creative. You wanna hear about the corners of hell I've seen, Sam?"

"No, I don't." He really didn't. His own imagination of what Dean was going through was enough, he didn't need Ruby to fill in any gaps.

"And the things I had to do to convince her I was sorry. That I could be trusted?"

"Well, this will definitely get you a fat Christmas bonus," he sneered.

"Very funny," Ruby replied flatly. "I'm a fugitive… for you, Sam. I took all of this risk just to get back to you, so yeah, I deserve a damn thank you."

"Who asked you to save me?"

"I'm just trying to help."

Sam cut her off. "Can you help me save Dean?"

"No," the demon admitted. "Nothing I know of is powerful enough to do that."

Sam fought to keep his emotions in check. Having Ruby say what he already knew deep down was almost too much to bear. He swung the car over to the side of the road and stopped.

"Then I have no use for you." He said as he looked across at her coldly.

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"Get out," he told her.

"Sam…"

"Whose body are you riding, Ruby?"

"What do you care, you've never asked me that before."

"I'm asking now." Sam demanded.

Ruby hesitated before answering. "Some secretary."

"Let her go."

"Sam…"

"Or I send you right back to Hell."

And that was the last time Sam expected to see her.

Ruby's confirmation that there was nothing that could be done to get Dean back made Sam realize that he only had one course of action. So, with no regard for his own safety, Sam decided he would hunt every demon he could find. Sooner or later he was sure he was sure Lilith would come out to face him. And when he found her Sam was going to take her out, no matter the cost.

And if anyone had ever thought that John Winchester had been a driven man, well they hadn't seen anything yet. After Jessica had been killed by the Yellow-eyed Demon Sam had wanted answers, now all that consumed him was revenge.

After letting Ruby out Sam found he was headed north, so kept going until he hit Kentucky then turned east. He stopped in Russell County, near Lake Cumberland, for no other reason than he just couldn't be bothered to drive any further. He found a derelict house far enough off the road out by the lake so it wouldn't be likely he'd be disturbed. It didn't look like anyone had been near it in years There was no electricity, which wasn't surprising, but it did still have running water. It was practically The Ritz by Winchester standards.

The nearest town was big enough that he would blend in whenever he needed to go for supplies without drawing attention, and where there were enough places for him to hustle pool or poker to earn enough money to get by from day to day yet not outstay his welcome. It was survival at its basest level but certainly nothing new to a Winchester.

He'd hardly had time to settle in when Ruby showed up again. This time in a body that she described as "100% socially conscious", an empty apartment, with evidence to prove it. Sam didn't know why she persisted in coming back. If she couldn't help him get Dean back, she really was no use to him. But this time she dangled a different carrot in front of him.

"Why are you here," he asked her.

"Look, I can't bring Dean back…" she paused, waiting for a response that didn't come, other than a look that said 'what else is new', "but I can get you something else that you want."

"Huh," Sam replied, almost disinterestedly, "and uh, what's that?"

"Lilith."

She knew she had his attention now, and waited for his response.

"You want me to use my psychic whatever?"

"Look, I know that it spooks you…"

"Skip the speech," Sam cut in. "I'm ready. Let's go."

Despite what he'd promised Dean, he knew that if he'd only done this before he could have saved his brother. That guilt tore at him, and now he had a chance to use his demon-given 'gift' to go after Lilith. This time he would be ready.

"Slow down, there, cowboy."

"Just tell me what I have to do," Sam insisted.

Ruby took her sweet time answering. Sam's emotionless and ready reply surprised her. She'd been ready to give him a real pep talk. But this was still her ballgame and she had to make sure she stayed in control.

"Look, Lilith is one scary bitch."

Sam had no need to be told that, he'd seen what she was capable of.

"When I was in the pit," Ruby continued, "there was talk. She's cooking up something big, apocalyptic big."

"So, let's kill her."

"You want to go in there and half-ass it like before? We have the time to get it right, let's get it right."

"Okay. What do you want from me?" Sam asked.

"A little patience… and sobriety. Promise me that, and I will teach you everything I know."

In the days that followed, Ruby trained Sam on how to concentrate his inner psychic power. It was hard work and excruciatingly painful. The headaches he'd suffered with his visions were nothing compared to the ones he suffered while trying to pull demons.

He didn't know how she did it, but Ruby managed to come up with a demon whenever she thought he was ready to try again - and the woods behind the cabin were beginning to resemble a graveyard, filled with his failures.

After what had to be his fourth or fifth attempt, Sam came back into the cabin after burying the latest body and threw the shovel down next to his duffel, digging out the bottle of painkillers.

"Just give it time, Sam, it'll get better," Ruby encouraged.

"What, I need more practice?" He asked sarcastically.

"I'm not talking about pulling demons." She watched as Sam swallowed down a handful of painkillers with a whiskey chaser. "I know losing Dean is..."

"Hey!" Sam warned, dangerously. "I don't wanna talk about it."

Sam was struggling to stay calm, his anger rising. The subject of Dean was off limits.

"You know what?" he said, "where do you get off slapping me with that greeting card 'time heals' crap? What the hell do you know?"

"I used to be human and I still remember what it's like to lose someone. I'm sorry."

Ruby reached up her hand to touch Sam's hair, and he warned her off.

"Uh, uh. Don't." Tears welled up and he struggled to hold them back. "I can't."

"Sam, you're not alone," Ruby said, compassionately. And then she kissed him.

Sam resisted, pushed her away. He got up and stalked across the room, disgusted.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Sam, it's okay," she cried.

Sam sat down on the old sofa and angrily replied, "No! That is anything but okay."

"What's wrong?" Ruby demanded, hotly.

"What's wrong?" Sam spat, incredulously. "Where do I start?"

"Is it because of the body?" she asked. "Because," she threw off her jacket and kneeled seductively in front of him, "I told you, it's all me inside of here. There's no one else in here, and it's nice inside this body, Sam." She took his hands and put them against her warm flesh as Sam tried to resist. "Soft, and warm." She whispered, continuing to rub his hands against her hips and flanks.

"What are you doing?" Sam was struggling against the feelings fighting to break free.

"Isn't it because you're really scared to go there with a demon? Because it's wrong, and it's bad, and we shouldn't?"

Sam wanted to resist, he fought against it, he really did, but it was almost as if he was watching all this happen to someone else, and pure animalistic passion took over as he grabbed her and pulled her up into his lap, stripping their clothes off, responding on a base level to her demands. Once the flood gate was opened, he couldn't stop.

Sam woke up with the mother of all hangovers. Which seemed strange since, even with all the drinking he'd been doing over the last couple of weeks, he hadn't really had a single one up 'til now. Maybe that was because he'd never really sobered up, he reflected.

He was lying naked on the couch, a light blanket draped over him. With consciousness came the realization of what he'd done. A wave of nausea that had nothing to do with the hangover rolled in his belly. He bolted off the couch, wrapping the blanket around him as he ran for the bathroom barely making it before he puked his guts up, feeling thoroughly disgusted and dirty.

From the kitchen doorway Ruby watched, a sly smile gracing her lips. She'd probably used a little too much of the potion in the whiskey. It seemed the combination didn't entirely agree with Sam. Still, it had worked its magic well. Sam would never know he'd been dosed with one of Ruby's "love" potions. The spell was a strong one. Sam was now bonded to her. He could fight against it and he might even be mildly successful at resisting her advances but that resistance wouldn't last long.

Sam staggered back into the living room, eyes red and suspiciously watery. He quickly hunted down his clothing and got dressed.

"Are you okay?" Ruby asked, coming up behind him and lightly laying her hand on his arm.

Sam quickly shrugged her off. "Don't touch me," he said angrily, shrugging her off and backing away.

"Sam, it's okay to feel."

"No. I don't want to talk about it." Sam grabbed the car keys and practically fled down the hall. "I'll be back later."

Ruby let him go, knowing he'd be back as promised once he calmed down. He needed her. Sam Winchester was a broken man, and she was going to make sure that he was built back up – in the image that she wanted him to be. She was well on track with her part in the End Game, she just hoped that prick Alistair was on track with his.

Several days later, signs and omens pointed to some major demonic activity building in West Virginia. It could only be Lilith, Ruby said.

Sam was nowhere near ready to take her on, he was ready to admit that, but he wasn't about to let her slip through his fingers either. Ruby tried to tell Sam that this was a Kamikaze attack, that it wasn't what Dean would have wanted, what he had died for. But she could see he was determined to go out and take Lilith on, was prepared to die in the attempt.

Ruby needed to test Sam, to consolidate her position as his surrogate "big brother", his protector, his confidante. To start to push him to the next level. She had observed Sam for long enough now to know exactly which buttons to push and when.

Ruby let Sam go in believing that Lilith was possessing the little girl. But Lilith had never intended being there, Ruby knew. There were a couple of low-level demons waiting to take Sam on. All Ruby had to do was rush in to save Sam and the girl at just the right moment - after Sam realized that there was a huge difference between trying to pull not one but two demons while fighting them off as opposed to one who was nicely tied up in a chair in the middle of a devil's trap.

Her plan almost didn't work when one of the demons got the drop on her. She hadn't expected that, and for just a couple of minutes truly thought she was going to die, that years of careful planning and plotting and manipulating, the sacrifices made by Azazel and others, would all be for nothing. Nor did she expect Sam to come barreling back in and actually gank the demon who was about to kill her, using his mojo.

She looked at Sam in complete surprise.

He breathlessly reassured her, "I'm okay."

Heading back out to the car, she congratulated him.

"Way to go, Sammy!"

Seeing him wince, she grew concerned. "Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. My head hurts a little, but it's okay. Really."

Nevertheless, Ruby insisted on driving back to the house and Sam slept the entire way, waking only enough when they got there to swallow some painkillers and stumble to the bed.

Ruby greeted him when he woke the next morning with a steaming cup of coffee, boiled up on the little camp stove.

"How's your head?"

"I'll live," Sam responded sarcastically.

Sam guessed that he'd finally been able to successfully use his ability because of the adrenalin rush. He explained to Ruby that it was kinda like when he'd been able to use psycho- kinetic power to get out of the closet when he'd had the vision that Max was going to kill Dean that one time.

"Well that's great, Sam," Ruby responded, "but if it takes this long to get over pulling one miserable low level demon, how the hell do you imagine you're going to be able to take on Lilith? What if you don't get super-charged by an adrenalin rush? Huh?"

"I'll keep working on it." Sam answered, sipping his coffee and hoping she'd just drop it for now.

Ruby looked at Sam and bit her lip. "I'm not sure we have enough time, Sam."

Surprised, Sam looked up at Ruby, almost spilling the coffee. "What do you mean? I thought you said we had all the time in the world?"

"You remember I said she was working on something big?"

"Apocalyptic big, I think is what you said."

"Yeah. Well, I think we may have to be ready a lot sooner than we thought."

"Crap," said Sam.

Ruby appeared thoughtful for a minute. "There is something else we could try."

"What?" Sam asked, surprised that she hadn't mentioned it before.

"Well, I don't think you're going to like it."

"There's a lot of stuff I don't like, Ruby. Just tell me what I have to do."

Ruby watched him cautiously, not sure if he was ready yet but needing to test him out to see if he was close.

"Your ability originally came from Azazel, right?"

Sam looked uncomfortable. "Right," he answered tersely.

"So, I'm thinking we could try to juice it up a little."

"Juice it up?" Sam queried, a confused frown starting on his forehead.

"Yeah. Like, you know, add a bit more demon power."

"You're right, I don't like it. How exactly do you think I could add a little more demon power?" Sam thought about it even as he answered, his face registering shock as soon as he figured it out. "No." he stated emphatically.

"It couldn't hurt just to try." Ruby didn't want to give in too quickly. She wanted to see if she could convince him, to see if he was ready to make the decision to go down that road yet.

"No way, Ruby. There has to be another way. I can just keep on practicing. I'll get better, I promise. Please." Sam hated that he sounded almost like he was begging, but he couldn't do what she was asking. The very thought almost made the coffee he'd just consumed make a return appearance.

"Sam, be realistic. We've been working at this for a month and so far all it's gotten you is a bunch of headaches and a fluke success at pulling one lousy demon on the lowest pay grade. You're going to need a hell of a lot more juice if you ever hope to take on Lilith and do more than just tickle her, let alone have any chance at walking away after. Even if you _don't_ care if you survive. Like I've said before, there's no point even going after her if you have no hope of taking her down."

"No, Ruby. I'm not going to do it. We'll find another way."

Ruby sighed. "Alright, Sam," she conceded. "But at least think about it, okay?"

Sam refused to answer. That was okay, Ruby was nothing if not patient.

She climbed up on the sofa on top of Sam, took the coffee cup from his hand and set it on the floor.

"So, how about we take a break and have a little fun for a while? Hmm?" She leaned in and nibbled his ear, ran her fingernails down his chest.

Sam's breath quickened. He hated himself for responding to her when she came on to him the way his body betrayed him. But when she started he was powerless to stop, even though his brain screamed at him that it was all wrong. In the next instant all conscious thought fled as he rolled over on top of her, pinning her under him. He growled as he grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, baring her throat, taking control. He had to have her…

Three months after Dean had been taken by the Hell Hounds, Ruby got the message she'd been waiting for. The first seal had been broken. It was time to start ramping things up.

Sam no longer seemed so emotionally fragile with Ruby there for him whenever he needed her. Sure, there was stuff he had buried deep inside of himself and refused to talk about – any topic to do with Dean especially. Sam would shut down the minute his brother's name was mentioned or any kind of memory surfaced. It wasn't quite like Dean had never existed, more like Sam had closed the door on that part of his life. It was over and Sam didn't want to talk about it. The Trickster had been right. Dean was his weakness. So Sam built his walls high enough and thick enough so that weakness couldn't be used against him ever again.

He had been working hard, as promised, not only on the psychic stuff but physically working out as well. Ruby sparred with him often and once he got over the fact that she was a woman and realized that as a demon nothing he did could hurt her, they fought hard so that Sam would be used to fight against the super strength of other demons. Ruby also made sure that he ate well and got enough rest, and as the summer wore on Sam was bulking up pretty nicely. Physically he was probably in the best shape he'd ever been in.

But he still couldn't pull a demon without its host dying in the process. And although he was no longer suffering with excruciating headaches, nausea and nosebleeds every time, it took a lot of effort and he still couldn't pull more than one demon at a time without needing a considerable amount of time after to regain his strength.

It was frustrating - for Sam, and for Ruby.

There had been nothing happening on the demon front since that false start in Kentucky but suddenly signs of demonic activity started to show up again, this time in Nebraska. There was nothing strong enough to suggest that Lilith was involved but Ruby had found out that there was a small cell of demons currently creating havoc just outside of Antelope, in Franklin County. It was a tiny place, population less than 300, all farmers.

Why demons would be showing up there was anyone's guess, but Ruby's Intel said that there was a chance that these particular demons could tell them what Lilith's next move was going to be, and Sam had no reason to doubt the validity of the information Ruby had managed to get..

They found the demons. Three of them, to be exact. They were inhabiting a family living on a farm ten miles out of town. Despite taking the group by surprise, a vicious fight broke out and Ruby had to use her knife on mom and pop, while Sam worked on pulling the demon from their 8-year-old daughter.

Sam openly wept as he held the young girl in his arms after he'd pulled the demon from her small body. She gasped her last breaths calling for her parents, her confused eyes asking Sam all the hard questions – what had happened, and why. Sam had no answers for her and could only hug her to him as she died.

Ruby stood and watched until the girl drew her last breath.

"You could have saved her." There was accusation in her tone.

"I tried," Sam whispered, picking the small corpse up and laying it out reverently on the sofa.

"Trying's not good enough anymore, Sam. Three people died here today. Innocents." Ruby injected just the right amount of righteous indignation into her voice. "They didn't have to die. _You_ could have saved them."

"Ruby, stop. Please, just stop." Sam pleaded.

"No, Sam. I'm not gonna stop. And you know why? Because pretty soon we're going to have to go up against Lilith. You can't even save one tiny family. How the hell are you going to take her down? You know she's not going to be out there alone, we're going to have to go through her minions to get her. The way things are right now? We might as well use my knife on ourselves, it'll be a swifter, less painful death." Her tone was insistent, badgering. Pushing home her point. Pushing Sam's buttons. "How many more innocent people need to die before you see reason? Take a good look around this place, Sam. Up until a little while ago, this was a happy family, minding their own business. Now they're dead. _And you could have saved them_."

Sam's gaze followed Ruby's arm as she swept it around pointing out the neat living room and the three corpses laying there. He closed his eyes in sorrow and defeat. He'd lost count of how many bodies lay in the wake of his and Ruby's quest to strengthen his mojo. She was right. He was still too weak to take Lilith on, and he wasn't saving anyone. He had to face facts. He either gave up now, or...

The very thought sickened him, but he knew now, he had no choice.

"All right," he said softly. "You win."

As Sam turned and walked out of the neat little house, back to the waiting Impala, Ruby smiled.

"About freakin' time," she said to herself before following him.

Sam was one stubborn asshole, but she was wearing him down gradually. Her job was far from done, but she was getting there. By the time Lilith was ready to break the last seal, Sam would be ready and waiting. All thanks to her. The end was so worth the means, as much as it turned her stomach to have to do some of the things she'd done. Having Sam Almighty Winchester putty in her hands? Oh, how she wished she could gloat to all her demon brethren. But hers was a lonely mission, the risk was great, but the payoff at the end would be glorious.

She was going to be rewarded beyond her wildest dreams.

End.


End file.
